Of annoyances, and cults

We'll start with the annoyances. (I've noticed that I'm using the Royal We a whole lot lately, especially in work conversations. As in, "We figured out that..." Or, "We thought about it, and decided..." I don't really know why I'm doing it; in some cases it's probably to give what I'm saying more weight, as if I represent a consensus of people, and in some cases I think it's because I don't want to sound like I'm singing my own praises by saying that "I" did something or solved some problem. OK, I guess we're starting with a huge parenthetical aside. Anyway, moving on.)

Like millions of people, I use my DVR to record The Office and 30 Rock. And like millions of people, I miss the first two minutes of The Office every week because NBC refuses to sync its schedule with whatever clock my cable company uses for the DVR. So, like millions of people, I spend a few minutes every week giving my cable box the finger (well, maybe I'm the only one doing that, but still). Yes, I realize I could set the DVR to start recording a few minutes earlier, but unfortunately my wife is utilizing both DVR tuners at the time to tape weepy drama shows on other channels, leaving me forever doomed to miss the opening joke of The Office. It also leaves me with the first few minutes of ER, which is currently in the midst of the most interminable final season ever. Since our cable box treats signals from our remote control as friendly suggestions more than anything, I spend a few more minutes every week pounding on my nonresponsive remote and yelling, "Why won't you fucking die already?" to ER as Breathless Voiceover Guy tells us about the nonstop excitement of the upcoming episode, which is the MOST DRAMATIC EVER FINAL LAST DON'T MISS IT!!!!!

(Another aside, lest I build any kind of coherent narrative: I've seen one half of one episode of ER in my life. In those 30 minutes, a baby died, and another guy had to be shocked back to life, which lit his chest hair on fire. I was not compelled to watch the next week.)

Moving on to the cults. Namely, Facebook, which I finally joined this week after caving to peer pressure, threats, and my own curiosity. I also needed another internet-based time suck, since football season is finished and there aren't any good video games coming out right now that I can obsess over. Mission definitely accomplished on that front; my biggest worry now is that I'm accepting friend requests too quickly, and that the requesters will think that I'm sitting on my couch all day, staring at my page and hitting the refresh button. Which is only partially true. Facebook and the social networking thing has been written about and covered from every conceivable angle, so I'm not even going to attempt an original thought here. I remain a little leery of it; there's only so many times you can look at thumbnail photos of people who tortured you in high school and lament that they didn't get fat. I have yet to experience the thrill of shunning a friend request from somebody I don't like, which might maintain my interest for a little longer. I eagerly await that opportunity.